


solstice in spring

by ophelialilies



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Magic, Original Mythology, Prince Hendery, Romance, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25309360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophelialilies/pseuds/ophelialilies
Summary: Kunhang had spent his life as prince dreaming of the realms beyond his castle. that is, until one day, he meets a boy with moonlight for hair and an angel’s voice that makes him want to stay.
Relationships: Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 24
Kudos: 140





	solstice in spring

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my first ever xiaodery fic ! we all know and love the concept of prince hendery (because he's a real life prince, it's true) so i was very excited to finally write him !!
> 
> i hope you enjoy reading and i will see you at the end! 🌷

Kunhang is at the edge of the castle garden when he spots it: the tall wooden mast of a ship, docked somewhere not too far from the shore of the kingdom. 

At first he thinks he’s imagining it, that perhaps the mast is simply another tall skinny tree in the woodlands, but soon it begins swaying the way boats do as they drift over the ocean.

The sound of his name causes Kunhang to lose his focus on the peculiar ship, and it disappears from view as he dives behind a rosebush – one of the few flowers that his mother is fond of.

“Kunhang!” the voice calls, uncertain, searching. He recognises it as one of his mother’s ladies in waiting, one of the women in particular who tends to hover around the queen like an impatient fly.

A flower tickles at his neck as Kunhang recedes further into the bush, waiting until he hears the sounds of receding footsteps to move again. Once she’s gone, Kunhang stands, brushing the grass off his trousers, fixing his crown and chancing a glance toward the battlements above.

Fortunately there are no knights or guards lining it this morning, as this evening is the feast and all the man and woman power alike has been seized for its preparations. It also makes for the perfect distraction, allowing Kunhang to slip away from the castle when no one is watching.

The grounds of the castle remain silent for a minute longer, so Kunhang favours his chances and begins to walk again, through the rose bushes until he finds the all too familiar cobbled path that leads toward the woods.

He traces the stone slabs without looking down once, his feet knowing exactly where to step as if he’s done this many times before, which he has. Instead, Kunhang takes the moment to take in one of his favourite sights: the woodlands overhead, its leaves swaying gently in the springtime breeze with the promise of warmer weather to come.

There are birds perched in the nooks and curves of the trees, whose skinny trunks stretch high into the blue sky. They chirp sweet songs at Kunhang as he passes, and he whistles them a tune in response, unable to hide the bright smile making its way to his face as he does.

That familiar feeling overtakes him then, as the woodlands begin to thin out and the shore of the kingdom comes into view. That feeling that feels akin to a butterfly taking flight or a flower spreading it’s petals for the sun. There’s a lightness in his chest, the opposite of the worries and concerns for the kingdom that usually reside there. 

Kunhang knows that he left those at the edge of the castle’s grounds.

His feet come to a stop as he reaches the edge of the land where it meets the sea. Kunhang glances up curiously, first at the small deep blue waves which lap at the shore and then to the horizon which stretches into the distance infinitely.

Kunhang wonders now, as he often does, what lies beyond the bounds of the kingdom. What he might find, were he to ever sail past its headlands, heading east and following the stars. Not stopping until he finds land.

The world at large fascinates him now just as much as it did when he was only a little prince, just a boy with a crown too big for his head, sitting atop his father’s knee and listening to the stories read straight from his travel journals.

The bay is empty as always, save for something new: the ship Kunhang had seen from the gardens.

It looks even larger now, bold and boasting in its tall mast, it’s pristine white sails and the cargo on board its deck. Except there’s something peculiar about it, too. There isn’t a sign of life on or around it.

He dismisses it, because the boat is hardly what he came here to investigate. Besides, it’s not entirely uncommon for a ship to dock in their bay, especially in the springtime when the neighbouring kingdoms send their seasonal gifts, a testament to their years of alliance and peace.

Kunhang turns his attention toward the satchel that crosses his shoulder, twisting it round until the bag is at his front and he’s able to reach inside. A laugh escapes his lips when his fingers brush against something metal, heavy, and all too familiar. His crown.

He pushes it aside, instead retrieving another familiar item. The cover of the book is so faded the title is barely legible, and the pages are dog-eared and torn, but he doesn’t mind. If anything, it’s testament to the time the book has been with him and the love that it has received.

Kunhang moves backward until his back hits his usual tree, sliding down it until he finds the ground despite knowing its green moss will no doubt leave marks on his blouse. He can’t bring himself to care, though, because as he opens the book for the umpteenth time, unfolding to the right page without ever having to look, a feeling of peace submerges him.

Kunhang loses himself then, engrossed in the words on the page, in the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, only inches away from his bare feet, his shoes kicked aside and forgotten and the top few buttons of his blouse undone to welcome the morning breeze.

He loses himself so deeply, that he doesn’t notice when a twig nearby snaps underfoot. He doesn’t notice either, so engrossed in his book, when someone – no doubt the twig snapper – approaches him cautiously.

It takes the sight of two feet in his peripheral vision and the gentle clearing of a throat for him to tear his eyes away from the pages and toward the source of the sound.

And _gods_ is Kunhang glad that he did.

The twig snapper, as Kunhang seems to have settled on calling the person in his mind, turns out to be a boy of around the same age. But he’s not just any boy. He’s just about the prettiest person Kunhang has ever seen (and that’s high praise, coming from someone who has grown up surrounded by both literal and physical royalty, seeing the fairest faces in the land.)

But none such a face as this. 

Kunhang blinks. 

The boy’s hair is paler than the moon, a shade of bleached white that he’s only ever seen in the sky at night. His eyebrows are the next thing that catch Kunhang’s eye, strong and bold and perfectly shaped, and the eyes that fall just below are shaped like crescent moons, something akin to starlight sparkling within them.

His nose is strong and suits the lines of his face, his strong cheekbones and jaw. But his lips, Kunhang notices most clearly, are so unlike the rest of his angular face: they look soft and delicate, and remind him of the tulips growing in the peristyle by his bedroom. 

The boy clears his throat again, and that’s when Kunhang notices two things: the blush delicately dusting the boy’s cheeks, and the fact that he’s staring. Kunhang blinks again.

“Hello,” is all he can seem to muster, but really, what else is he supposed to say? _I swear on all the gods you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen? How do you do?_

“Hello,” the other boy returns, his voice sweet and it reminds Kunhang of that of a bard or minstrel. Delicate but clear. The blush on his cheeks never fades.

There’s a pause, and an awkward one at that, as the two boys stare at each other in silence.

“How can I help you?” Kunhang asks after a beat too long, when he realises that it’s likely that the boy came over to say something more than just _“Hello”_.

The other boy’s eyes widen and a nervous smile breaks out onto his face, a small laugh escaping his lips. He rubs at the back of his neck and averts his gaze in a way that Kunhang finds unhelpfully endearing. (His heart flutters in his chest but he ignores it, trying to keep his gaze focused on the boy above him.)

“Oh, yes, actually,” the boy says, and Kunhang basks in the sweet sound again. “I was wondering if you know where the castle is.”

 _Oh._ Kunhang realises. The boy doesn’t know where the castle is. The boy doesn’t know who he is. 

“Yes, of course,” Kunhang responds quickly, trying to distract the other boy from the blush of his own that he can feel on his cheeks. “It’s just through the woodlands and up the hill a bit. It isn’t far, and there’s a path you can follow,” he explains, pointing toward the cobbled path he had taken only moments ago.

“Oh!” the boy exclaims as his eyes follow Kunhang’s gestures. Kunhang would have found it amusing that the other boy doesn’t know where the castle is – considering that it’s rather hard to miss with its tall towers and large keep – if it weren’t for the woodlands that are just as tall.

“Thank you so much for your help,” the boy says politely, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Kunhang smiles.

“It’s not a problem,” he reassures with a small wave, his book in his other hand.

“I’m not from around here, you see. This is my first time in the kingdom, so I’m not too familiar with the land.”

That information doesn’t surprise Kunhang, and yet he still finds himself wondering where the boy might be from. He doesn’t get an answer, though, because a voice from somewhere near the ship, behind the boy and out of Kunhang’s sight, calls out. The name the voice uses is _captain._

“I have to go, but thank you again for your help,” the boy says with a polite bow, and Kunhang marvels in the sight of the blush that remains on his cheeks, whilst also mourning the brevity of a conversation with such a mysterious person.

Kunhang smiles politely and nods as the boy turns, moving further toward the ship until he’s boarding the deck and disappearing beneath into the cabin. Voices sound from the depths of the ship and that’s when Kunhang realises that there is life on the ship, it’s just hidden.

He laughs to himself, a bewildered chuckle more than anything, before turning his attention back to the book in his hands. Kunhang loses himself in the story once more, even though he knows it so well, but this time there’s something else on his mind, too.

A peculiar boy with eyes that shimmer like the ocean and the voice of a muse.

───── ⋆⋅♔⋅⋆ ─────

A knock at the door brings Kunhang out of his thoughts. How long he had been staring out the window of his bedroom is a mystery, watching the guests arrive in the courtyard one by one. It’s certainly longer than he’d planned, though, if the incessant knock at the door is anything to go by.

“Your highness,” the voice is curt and quipped, more of a statement than a question. Kunhang sighs, knowing that once again time has slipped from his fingers and there are duties awaiting him. “The queen awaits your presence.”

“I’ll be one moment,” Kunhang responds quickly, trying to earn himself a minute at least. The person behind the door says nothing but he hears their steps disappearing down the hallway.

Kunhang stands, pulling the window in and locking it, but not without stealing another glance outside. 

A ship is still docked in the bay.

Kunhang turns, moving toward the mirror in the corner of his room to check his appearance one more time before leaving. What he finds there is nothing short of what his mother asked of him – the royal tunic covering his torso and disappearing into his trousers, a navy blue cloak over his shoulders with a map of the kingdom embroidered on its back in gold.

Atop his head sits a silver crown, glinting gold in the sunlight that sets on the horizon of the kingdom. It dances in the diamonds that line the radius of the crown and reminds Kunhang of the ocean, and the way it looks when the sunlight shimmers in its waves.

The volume of commotion downstairs escalates and Kunhang can only assume that most of the guests have now arrived. It’s undoubtedly his turn to make an appearance, and so he turns away from the mirror and opens the door to his chambers.

As Kunhang walks the halls, descends the stairs and traces the path toward the ballroom, the sounds of laughter and excited chatter echo down the stone walls and reach his ears, increasing in volume. He can hear the clinking of wine glasses and the soft playing of a harp, sounds which turn from muffled to clear rather quickly as he rounds in front of the entrance to the ballroom.

The doors are closed and in front of them stand two guards. When they catch sight of Kunhang, they bow as deeply as their stiff metal armour allows. In unison they greet him with, “Your highness,”, but it’s muffled through their helmets. Kunhang nods and smiles, as he always does even with the faceless staff of the castle.

“Are you ready to make your entrance?” the one on the right asks, to which Kunhang simply nods. He adjusts the cloak around his neck slightly, centring it as he awaits the opening of the doors.

The guards move in perfect synchronisation to open them, and they swing open wide bringing an immediate view of a descending grand staircase and an even grander ballroom below. Kunhang steps through the archway, pausing for a moment at the edge of the first step to take in the sight.

The ballroom is full of people – of women and men and knights and royalty, of gowns and hairpieces and colour – so many people that Kunhang can barely see the pale marble floor. 

It isn’t the first time he’s seen the ballroom so full, as their kingdom is famous for hosting extravagant balls to honour the gods. And yet, it still manages to surprise him every time. 

None of that matters, though, because suddenly the sounds of laughter and chatter and movement are dying out, even the instruments fading to a stop, and Kunhang can feel all eyes on him. 

“The prince!” someone calls, and it’d be difficult to guess who amongst the sea of bodies. Kunhang takes his first step, and then the second and third, grateful for the fact that he doesn’t stumble even under the gaze of hundreds. 

The silence remains as he continues to descend, so silent that Kunhang is sure he could drop a pin and manage to hear it. He sighs discreetly in relief when he reaches the last step and slowly but surely the pairs of eyes begin to leave him. 

The small orchestra in the corner of the room resumes their playing once the conductor gives them the signal, and soon the sounds of festivity are once again echoing in the tall arches of the hall.

Kunhang sweeps his gaze over the crowd and it doesn’t take him long to find her. The crown on his mother’s head stands tall above the heads of the masses as she engages in conversation with a pair of lords Kunhang recognises from the northern kingdom. 

Kunhang is just about to move toward her when another quick glance through the crowd yields a surprise: Kunhang spots a familiar face. One that he didn’t expect to see again. 

It’s the boy from the shore. Or the captain, Kunhang supposes he should say. 

He looks different this time, no longer dressed in the loose white shirt of a sailor, replaced instead by a formal suit with naval badges lining the collar. He looks just as beautiful. 

Where he had been windswept by the sun, he is now pale dipped in the moonlight. Kunhang glances up from the outfit to meet his eyes, and is surprised yet again, to find that the boy is staring right back, with the most stunned look on his face that Kunhang has ever seen. 

The other boy is at the centre of the ballroom, surrounded by nobles and similarly dressed men Kunhang assumes is his crew, but the boy’s attention is entirely on Kunhang, even across the distance. His eyes travel from Kunhang’s face to the space atop his head where Kunhang knows his crown sits. 

Almost comically, the boy’s eyes widen even further.

Kunhang smiles softly, his heart fluttering in his chest at the sight. The feeling reminds him of the butterflies he would watch take flight at the start of spring, spending the night sleeping beneath the stars just to see them rise with the sun. 

He knows that somewhere in the crowd his mother no doubt awaits his presence, and yet it’s now the last thing on Kunhang’s mind. In its place, an idea. A feeling.

As he crosses the ballroom floor there’s a lightness in his step, his eyes never leaving that now-familiar head of moon kissed hair.

The crowd parts of him like the sea, a murmuring of whispers and words. Kunhang keeps their surprised glances out of his mind, focusing instead on the feeling in his chest that guides him forward until he’s stopping just in front of the boy.

The captain blinks back at him, the surprised expression on his face only growing.

“Oh,” the boy says, after a moment of staring shyly at Kunhang. “Hello.” 

Kunhang smiles, the sound soothing the erratic heart beating in his chest. The boy’s voice sounds just as pretty as he had remembered.

The other boy’s eyes, dark and sparkling in the low golden light, search his as he waits for Kunhang to speak again. Kunhang takes his time, trying to decide what to say. He doesn’t speak until he feels he’s found the right words, instead enjoying the way the other boy watches with wide eyes.

“Would you like to dance with me?” Kunhang finally asks, his eyes unwavering as they meet the boy’s. Once again the room is silent, every pair of eyes on the two of them, each ear trained to hear every word that leaves the prince’s mouth.

There’s a few beats of silence as the boy seems to process Kunhang’s question. Much to his delight, only a moment later the boy smiles, an expression that lights up his face the way a sunrise does the sea. 

“It would be my honour.”

A murmuring sweeps through the crowd around them but Kunhang doesn’t hear it, not when the other boy is hesitantly taking Kunhang’s hand in his and leading him toward the centre of the hall.

When they come to a stop at the middle of the crowd, Kunhang sends the orchestra a glance. They immediately lift their bows and ready their fingers at the strings, and that’s when Kunhang lifts his hands, finding with ease the other boy’s small waist. 

The boy glances up, a pretty shade of rouge dusting his cheeks like pollen, a small smile on his lips. Kunhang nods reassuringly and the boy lifts his hands to rest gently at Kunhang’s shoulders, just the ghost of a touch.

In that moment, everything else fades away.

It’s just Kunhang, the boy, and every point of contact between them burning like flames that lick at his skin. An intensity that he wants to lean into. Soon music is filling his ears, the familiar sounds of strings and plucking echoing through the grand hall, and just like that, he and the other boy are moving.

It’s as if they’ve done this before, perhaps danced together in another life, because they move in perfect harmony. With every step Kunhang takes forward, the boy takes one back, and when he advances or turns, Kunhang is there to adjust or to help him spin.

It’s with amazing fluidity that they dance in great circles at the centre of the crowd. He can hear whispers, just glimpses of words he can hardly make out. The only thing Kunhang manages to catch is the one question burning in his mind: _Who is the boy?_

Much to Kunhang’s surprise, it’s the other boy who speaks first. After a minute or so of dancing together, they find a rhythm, and the rest of the crowd seems to move past their collective state of shock to join them on the dance floor, resuming the usual festivities. 

Soon the two boys are surrounded by couples and couples of dancers, following their lead through the movements.

Kunhang barely notices now that the other boy is meeting his gaze, eyes slightly wide and a delicate blush on his cheeks. 

“You’re the prince?” he asks, voice shy. Kunhang decides that softness looks beautiful on him. (In a way the other boy reminds him of a flower; beautiful but delicate, opening its petals for the sun but just as vulnerable to being crushed underfoot. Kunhang wants to wrap his arms around him and hold him there.)

Kunhang smiles and nods gently, his heart fluttering again. “Yes, I am.”

The reaction that blooms on the other boy’s face is priceless, as if Kunhang has confirmed something he had thought may be true.

“I had no idea,” the other boy admits, averting his gaze to some distant and evidently fascinating spot on the floor. Kunhang hums softly, hoping to reassure the other boy.

“I know,” Kunhang smiles, and the boy glances up more confidently this time to meet his gaze. Then, he does something that surprises Kunhang. He laughs.

It’s even sweeter than his voice, something Kunhang had thought impossible. He finds himself laughing too, finding the sound infectious.

“I’m Prince Kunhang. It’s lovely to officially meet you,” Kunhang says when they settle but the smile never leaves his face.

“Likewise, Kunhang,” the boy tries out the name on his tongue, a curious look on his face. He must decide that he likes it. “I’m Captain Dejun of the Delphinus Islands.”

Kunhang can’t hide the look of surprise on his face. He’s heard of the eastern islands, of course he has, but only in the fairytales his father would read him when he was young. Never had he seen them with his own eyes and certainly had he not met anyone from there. 

They are as much a mystery as the rest of the world is to him.

Kunhang decides this is something he will ask the boy – Dejun – about later, because being at the centre of the room and surrounded by people he knows are listening is starting to feel suffocating. 

And so Kunhang removes a hand from Dejun’s waist, lifting it instead to rest on the boy’s hand at his shoulder. The other boy intertwines their fingers without hesitating for a moment. 

“Would you like to go outside?” Kunhang asks, stopping his movements as the other boy does too.

Dejun nods after throwing a glance toward his crew who appear to be either dancing with the masses or pouring themselves glasses of wine enthusiastically. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

Neither boy releases their intertwined hands as they cross to the opposite side of the hall, using the vivacious crowd as a veil to slip away without anyone noticing. They reach the wall, dominated largely by a huge glass paned door that opens onto the patio of the castle.

Kunhang opens it, although not without pausing to share the excited laughter that is escaping Dejun’s lips. Mischief looks good on him, too.

And then they’re stepping through the glass doors, out onto the large stone patio that overlooks the flower gardens below and beyond them, the woodlands and the sea. They reach the balustrade and Kunhang leans his elbows on it. 

He turns to find a gentle smile on Dejun’s face.

“I can see my ship from here,” Dejun says, as softly as his expression looks. There’s a fondness in his eyes as he stares at the tall mast, which still looks just as much like one of the trees in the woods.

“How long have you been the captain?” Kunhang hears himself ask, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Dejun smiles. “Ever since my mother retired a few years ago. She had grown older, and had been training me to take over the islands for a while.”

“The islands?” Kunhang asks, surprised. Dejun laughs softly, tearing his eyes away from the ship for the first time since they arrived on the patio to look at Kunhang instead.

“Yes. In the islands, captain is the highest position. It isn’t anything like being a prince,” Dejun pauses, a slight glint in his eye, “We don’t have those. But it’s our form of royalty.”

Kunhang smiles. It makes sense, really. The boy has the face of a god, as if he were always made to rule. Kunhang can see it now, clear as day. “You must have been young when you took over from your mother,” he notes instead, because Dejun doesn’t look a day older than him.

“Yes, I was seventeen then. Young, but not too young, as far as the islands are concerned,” Dejun remarks with a laugh, but it isn’t wry, where it is instead fond. Kunhang finds himself rather amazed.

“What’s it like?” he asks. Something sparkles in Dejun’s eye before he speaks again, and Kunhang finds himself glad that he asked.

“Kunhang, it’s...,” Dejun trails off, seemingly lost in thought as his gaze finds the horizon again. Kunhang waits, still basking in the sound of his own name from the other boy’s lips. “Have you ever been out at sea?” 

Wistfully, Kunhang shakes his head. “I wish I could say the answer is yes. I’ve always wanted to go.”

Dejun looks surprised when he turns back to meet Kunhang’s gaze, asking tentatively, “Why haven’t you?”

A sigh escapes Kunhang’s lips and he allows his chin to fall into the palm of his hand. “My mother won’t let me leave the kingdom. I’ve never left the castle, actually,” Kunhang notes. Dejun at first looks dismayed but it soon turns sympathetic.

“In the islands, we believe everyone, no matter their rank, should have the freedom to see the world,” Dejun says, inching imperceptibly closer until their hips are touching slightly. Kunhang stands upright then, turning to face Dejun who does the same.

They’re so close that Kunhang can count every eyelash lining Dejun’s pretty eyes.

“If only I was born there instead of here,” Kunhang says lightheartedly with a small smile.

There’s a moment of silence as they stare into each other’s eyes, neither boy saying anything. Kunhang listens to his own heartbeat, beating so hard in his chest he wonders if Dejun can hear it.

“Perhaps one day I could show you,” Dejun says so softly it’s almost a whisper, just loud enough for Kunhang to hear it, and no one else.

A few beats pass like that, staring into each other’s eyes. The party inside is long forgotten, and so too the rest of the world. It’s as if the only thing that exists is the space between them. The space that Kunhang so desperately wants to close.

He hasn’t known Dejun long, but since he saw the boy by the beach – looking like he were not made for the land but a creature of the sea – Kunhang has found himself wanting to know more and more. 

And so when Dejun reaches out a tentative hand, Kunhang leans into the touch without a second thought, pressing his cheek to the soft inside of Dejun’s palm. 

Their eyes never leave each other’s, and Kunhang decides that he could probably stay just like this forever, listening to the fast beating of Dejun’s heart through the pulse in his fingertips, watching the shade of pink that blooms on his cheeks when Kunhang doesn’t look away once.

But he knows he wants more. Perhaps needs it. Dejun’s eyes glance downward at his lips for only a moment, but Kunhang doesn’t miss it. He trails his own gaze downward to Dejun’s lips, which look just as soft and pink as they had in the morning, as Kunhang gazed up at him, the sunlight behind painting his aura golden. 

And he isn’t sure when it happens, or how, but soon both of them are leaning in, just as instinctively and in tune as they had been when they danced.

It doesn’t take long for their lips to connect, a feeling of electricity rippling through Kunhang’s body when they do because they fit together so well, like two crescents that together create a full moon.

Dejun moves against his lips tentatively in a gentle kiss, shy almost, as if neither know the other’s bounds. The hand at Kunhang’s cheek drops to snake around his neck, pulling him closer, and Kunhang allows his own hand to find Dejun’s waist. 

He feels warm, like a summer morning spent by the sea. Kunhang leans deeper into the kiss as he licks over Dejun’s lower lip, earning a soft noise of surprise that goes straight to Kunhang’s head, leaving him dizzy.

They stay like that for a while, their lips moving against each other and despite feeling so natural, the butterflies in Kunhang’s stomach never cease. He doesn’t mind though, because it feels so right. Dejun’s lips fit perfectly beneath his, and feel just as soft as he’d imagined. 

And most importantly, they taste sweet like honey and salty like the sea. 

The basic need to breathe makes itself known and they have to pull apart eventually, albeit reluctantly. 

There’s a smile on both of their lips though, and Dejun’s eyes look brighter than the stars, like sunlight shimmering on the sea. They keep their foreheads pressed together even as they catch their breaths.

“I just kissed a prince,” Dejun comments, voice rougher than it had been before. 

“I just kissed a captain,” Kunhang returns, enjoying the way Dejun’s eyes flick upward to meet his and a laugh escapes his now slightly swollen lips.

“Yes you did,” he hums, the hands laced behind Kunhang’s neck slipping down to wrap around his waist instead and pull him closer, until their chests are flush against each other. The evening breeze picks up then, carrying with it fallen leaves and forgotten petals from the garden, and Kunhang watches them dance on the wind in the reflection of Dejun’s eyes.

“I’m glad that I did,” Kunhang says then, only barely noticing the harp and laughter that slips through the cracks in the doors and reaches the patio. He can barely hear any of it because of the loud heartbeat thumping in his ears.

“I’m glad that you did, too,” Dejun responds, so suddenly sincere that it leaves Kunhang breathless for a moment.

“It’s a bit strange, though, isn’t it?” he ponders, inviting Dejun to join him.

“What is?” Dejun asks, a glint in his eye as he rubs their noses together which earns a laugh from Kunhang.

“That before this morning we had been merely strangers, and yet here we are on the balcony of my castle, kissing under the stars.”

“It sounds rather like a fairytale to me,” is all Dejun says in response, the smile forever lingering at the corner of his lips. “But there’s something more we could be doing, you know?”

Dejun poses the question in such an innocent way that Kunhang has to laugh. Dejun fixes him a naive look, cocking his head to the side and batting his eyelashes.

“And what is that?” Kunhang prompts, even though he suspects he already knows. Besides, it’s fun to play along with the game, and Dejun only grins harder at that, so it’s worth it.

However, much to Kunhang’s dismay, Dejun doesn’t answer. Instead, the other boy leans forward, recapturing Kunhang’s lips this time with more fervour than he had before.

Kunhang meets it, feeling a familiar heat pooling in his stomach. A breathy sound escapes his lips when Dejun bites softly on his lower lip, one of his hands curling around Kunhang’s waist slightly tighter.

They stay like that for a moment before it becomes too intense and they both have to pull away. “Do you want to take this to my chambers?” Kunhang asks, waiting for Dejun to catch his breath.

Dejun merely nods instead, but then Kunhang realises something. “Wait, Dejun, what about your crew?”

“Don’t worry about them, they’re all too drunk to even make it back to the ship. I suspect they’ll be spending the night on the couches of the castle halls,” Dejun responds with a fond laugh and a knowing look in his eye.

That’s all Kunhang needs to hear before he’s taking Dejun’s hand in his and bidding the balcony goodbye. 

Instead of reentering the feast and risking being seen, Kunhang takes them a back route, descending the stairs of the patio until they reach the gardens, and circling around the outskirts until they find a familiar small wooden door.

Kunhang opens it, slipping through and Dejun follows close behind. They follow the halls until they find a winding stone staircase, a secret entrance to the prince’s chambers that only Kunhang and his father knew about.

For a moment he feels just like a young boy again, sneaking up the stairs as quietly as he can, except this time he has someone else with him, too. They giggle the entire way, the soft sounds echoing unforgivably loudly down the hall, but the entire castle is too preoccupied for anyone to notice.

Soon they reach the top and Kunhang guides Dejun by the hand into his room. All Kunhang wants to do is either press Dejun against the back of the door or be pressed against the back of the door, he doesn’t mind which. He can’t, though, because he doesn’t want to disturb the sight before him.

Dejun stands at the centre of the room, turning in a slow circle with wide eyes that take in the room, sweeping over the grand windows with a view of the sea, the ensuite bathroom with a tub full of flowers, and the grand bed covered in pale pink silk.

“Kunhang,” is all that Dejun says, and even though he knows his room is grand, he thinks Dejun is infinitely more beautiful. “Your room, it’s like the ones I’ve seen in paintings back home. This whole castle is, really.”

A warm feeling blossoms like a flower in his heart as Kunhang steps toward Dejun, raising a hand to his cheek in perfect imitation of the other boy’s earlier action. Then he murmurs softly, “Welcome to my home.”

The wonder in Dejun’s eyes never leaves as he shifts his focus back to Kunhang, but the look there certainly softens. He doesn’t say anything, though, nor does he need to.

Dejun simply presses forward until they’re touching again, until the last point of disconnect between them ceases and they’re kissing, like the moon and the sun meeting halfway in the sky.

Kunhang moves them back toward the bed, a kind of blind movement that may have been awkward with anyone else but is as graceful as a waltz with Dejun, who seems to know exactly where to step. Said boy falls back onto the silk mattress first, detaching from Kunhang for a moment, but the latter boy is quick to close it again, climbing on top of the slightly smaller boy and recapturing his lips.

He can feel his own hair tickling at Dejun’s forehead, can he feel Dejun smiling against his lips, and a feeling sweeter than sugar makes a home for itself in Kunhang’s chest.

Dejun must sense his distraction because he plants a firm hand on Kunhang’s shoulder and in one swift movement, reverses their positions. Kunhang finds himself flat on his back, a surprised gasp escaping his mouth, but not for long before they’re kissing again. Dejun rocks down until every part of them is touching, and Kunhang is arching off the mattress, pressing impossibly closer.

When they’re both breathless, Dejun pulls away, his lips finding purchase on Kunhang’s neck, no doubt leaving marks he’ll have to cover later with a high neckline. He doesn’t mind, though. Any reminder of his time with Dejun he will cherish for as long as he can.

“How do you want this to go?” Dejun mouths the words against his skin, and Kunhang can barely focus on them when pleasure is rippling through his body in waves.

“What do you mean?” he asks, confused and short of breath. That’s when Dejun stops his ministrations, shifting his weight to his arms and lifting his head so their eyes can meet.

“What do you want?” he rephrases with a patient expression. Kunhang thinks for a moment, knowing that either way this goes he’ll be happy, because he’s certain that anything with Dejun will feel good.

But there remains a part of him that gravitates more toward one option, something he knows has very much to do with the rush he felt seeing Dejun’s expression of pure surprise across the ballroom, and it has him hesitating.

There’s a beat of silence and Kunhang wonders for a moment if Dejun is one of those mythical seers he had heard about in his father’s travel stories, because the expression on his face shifts in understanding. 

When he speaks again, Kunhang feels nothing other than known _._

“I want to serve you,” Dejun says, gaze unwavering. “Whatever you like, I will give you. You are my prince. And I am yours.”

───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────

Kunhang has never felt pleasure quite like this. He’s been vulnerable in this way before, sharing a part of himself with another in the name of intimacy, but not once has it felt so intensely passionate, so driven by something beyond pure lust.

Dejun opens himself for Kunhang just as readily, and once again the other boy reminds him of a flower in bloom. Springtime has always been his favourite season, and he’s reminded now more than ever why it is so.

Kunhang himself feels like a sailor, just a boy at the sea, the shimmering ocean beneath him, opening its warm and gentle waters for his exploration. With his head thrown back and his eyelids fluttering closed, Dejun looks beautiful. His lips are slightly parted in a silent expression of pleasure, one that Kunhang understands, can feel himself.

As they move against each other, almost like a dance, Kunhang admires the lines of Dejun’s body, how perfectly it fits beneath his. There’s moonlight dancing in the lighter parts of the boy’s pale hair, and his skin is dipped in silver by the night. 

Against the silk he looks more like a painting than a human, and Kunhang wonders if everyone from the islands is like this, or if it’s just Dejun. He knows, in his heart, that it’s the latter.

Kunhang dips his head, quickening his pace as he closes the small space between them to kiss down the column of Dejun’s neck, basking in the sounds that escape the other boy’s lips at the additional contact.

It’s not long after that that both of them are chasing their highs, following waves of pleasure over the edge like two boys running toward the edge of a cliff that falls to the sea, hand in hand the entire way.

Kunhang captures Dejun’s lips and kisses him through it, losing himself in ecstasy and with it any sense of where he ends and Dejun begins. It doesn’t matter, though. Not when he has Dejun here, like this. And not when Dejun has him just the same.

───── ⋆⋅♔⋅⋆ ─────

Soft tendrils of sunlight, golden but tentative, reach their fingers through the open window of Kunhang’s room, finding the bed and immersing his body in warmth. There’s a gentle breeze filtering through too, blowing the white linen curtains around, and it’s an uncharacteristically balmy morning for spring. If anything, it feels more like summer.

It’s silent, too. The castle is asleep, and with it everyone who resides here, either hungover or exhausted. The silence is tranquil. Like space to breathe.

Kunhang stirs, rolling over from his back to his side to find one of the prettiest sights that has ever graced him at this hour of the day; Dejun, sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling slowly and long eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, the way they had the first time Kunhang laid eyes on him.

A smile easily makes its way to his lips as he props himself up on his elbow to take in the sight some more. Perhaps it’s selfish, but when it comes to Dejun, Kunhang doesn’t mind. He wants to enjoy this moment for as long as he can.

Even in the glow of morning Dejun still looks like a fallen star, a piece of the night that got lost along the way and accidentally ended up in the day.

Dejun rouses and pulls Kunhang from his musings, sighing and stretching like a sleepy palace cat before his eyes flutter open.

“Good morning,” Kunhang hums, the smile only growing on his face. There’s a delicate fluttering in his heart, no longer nervous and excited. Simply peaceful.

“Good morning, my prince,” Dejun purrs after a moment in response, his eyes fully open now as he rolls to his side to face Kunhang properly. Even his morning voice sounds beautiful, a rougher version of his usual, like rocks at the edge of the sea. 

“How did you sleep?” Kunhang asks as Dejun lifts a hand to draw delicate circles into Kunhang’s waist where his ribs meet his hips. It’s just the ghost of a touch and yet it’s as intoxicating as if it were more.

“I haven’t slept that well since I was a child, I think,” Dejun murmurs, his hand moving slowly from Kunhang’s waist to spread its fingers over his heart. Kunhang doesn’t pull away.

“Neither have I,” he whispers back because it’s true. He didn’t wake once, a dreamless sleep like the ones he had when he was younger. Dejun smiles for the first time this morning and it’s brighter than the sun. Kunhang finds himself smiling, too.

A few beats of silence pass and nothing is said. It’s comfortable, as they gaze at each other in thought, but something has Dejun’s eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“What now?” he eventually asks with a concerned look on his face.

“What do you mean?” Kunhang asks, not understanding. The hand never leaves his heart though.

“Is this where our time together ends?”

The question hangs in the air between them, its words dancing in each silent note, in each breath they take. Kunhang knows what he wants the answer to be. And judging by the look on Dejun’s face, he wants the same.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Kunhang whispers, taking the hand at his heart in his and pressing the ghost of a kiss to Dejun’s knuckles. His skin feels soft, warm, and Kunhang runs his lips over every bump and curve until he’s kissed every inch of Dejun’s skin. Said boy smiles again, like the moon peeking out from behind the stars.

Then Dejun’s face lights up. 

“Kunhang, I have an idea,” there’s something playful sparkling in his eye. Kunhang meets his gaze curiously but doesn’t get to hold it for long because Dejun is suddenly moving, propping himself up so that he can push Kunhang onto his back and settle above him.

Kunhang blinks up at Dejun, a surprised laugh bubbling in his chest. Dejun looks just as playful as he sings, “You told me last night that you’ve never been out to sea, but have always wanted to go.”

Kunhang nods slowly, not following. The sparkle in Dejun’s eye glints even brighter.

“Why don’t I take you out on my ship?” a pause. “Why don’t we see the ocean together?”

Kunhang’s heart beats wildly in his chest at the thought. 

The ocean. 

Being able to see it. 

With Dejun.

“We could do that?” he asks, tentative, the practicality and possibility of the idea still taking shape in his mind. Dejun nods, sure of himself.

“The entire castle is asleep, save for us. We could sneak out the way we came in and down through the woodlands. My crew is no doubt passed out somewhere near the ballroom, so they won’t notice either.”

Kunhang catches his lower lip with his teeth, meeting the promising look in Dejun’s eyes above him. His heart sings a wistful tune, hopeful, and he listens to it for a moment longer before he nods. Dejun smiles once more and it’s all worth it.

───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────

Something Kunhang learns that morning is that when he’s in the same room as Dejun, he can’t take his eyes off him.

They stand on opposite sides of his bedroom, Kunhang near the window and Dejun near the bathroom, dressing for their adventure to the sea. In the tall mirror that leans against the wall, Kunhang watches Dejun dress, watches as he pulls Kunhang’s own blouse over his torso, covering the skin that Kunhang wants to kiss all over again.

They look the same – just two boys in blouses and trousers, ready to face the ocean – except for the crown that sits on Kunhang’s head, and the badge placed over Dejun’s heart.

He can’t take his eyes off him even as they interlace their fingers and Kunhang guides them down the hall and out the secret entrance, through the gardens, through the woodlands, or even when they stop at the bank of the ocean.

Kunhang had always been entranced by the beauty of those aspects of his home, but now that he’s with Dejun, he doesn’t see any of it. How can he, when there’s something infinitely more beautiful to look at?

And how could he, when Dejun returns his gaze just as intensely, just as unabashed? Every time their eyes meet Kunhang’s heart somersaults in its place, a light and fluttery feeling blossoming in his chest. It does that even now, as Dejun takes the lead in walking him toward his ship.

They stop just short of the wooden body, and that’s when Kunhang realises how large it is. He has to lift his head to see it in all its glory, from the tall mast to the drawn sails, the bow and the figurehead, a carving of a merman.

Kunhang has heard of those too. Mythical merpeople, part fish and part human, swimming off the isles of the mainland. He turns to Dejun then, to find the other boy is already watching him.

“Are they real?” he asks, searching Dejun’s face. He can see the deep turquoise shades of the ocean reflected there. “The merpeople, are they real?”

Dejun’s eyes widen for a moment, a look of slight surprise, before a smile blossoms in its place. The expression is fond, a warmth radiating from it with such adoration that it almost leaves Kunhang breathless.

His head is still spinning when Dejun finally responds. “I suppose you’ll have to find out,” the boy says in a playful tone, and it could be a trick of the light but Kunhang swears that the other boy winked, too.

“What do you mean?” he asks, incredulous, laughing as Dejun turns on the spot, untying a wooden rope ladder from the side of the ship and releasing it. Kunhang watches it unravel, watches Dejun climb it still offering no response.

“Dejun, are they real?” Kunhang persists, with exasperated laughter this time, hurrying after the boy who has now reached the top of the ladder and jumped on board. Dejun turns with a wicked smile on his lips to meet Kunhang’s gaze.

“Come aboard, Prince Kunhang,” he says with a smile, and Kunhang wants to roll his eyes but his anticipation gets the better of him and he finds himself climbing the ladder anyway. When he reaches the top he makes eye contact with an outstretched hand, which he accepts.

On board, the ship looks even more grand, its wooden deck golden and glinting in the sunlight. At the bow of the ship is a steering wheel and a spyglass. Kunhang remembers what his father told him about the people of the isles using the stars to guide them through the sea, even in complete darkness.

Dejun busies himself with setting the sails free from their rope confines, and Kunhang stands at the centre of the ship to watch as the white fabric unfurls and flaps in the sea breeze. It’s instantly cooler up here even though they’re still by the shore, something in the wind a little saltier than Kunhang has tasted before.

“We’re ready to set sail, my prince,” Dejun calls from the bow. Kunhang knows Dejun is using the title playfully but he still likes the way it sounds more than he has ever before. (It may have something to do with how Dejun used it last night, he realises with a soft blush, but that’s something to ponder later.)

“Dejun, don’t we need to push the ship out to sea?” he calls back over the sound of the wind which is picking up in intensity. He vaguely remembers overhearing sailors visiting from the west explaining the locomotion of ship take-off, and he’s sure it had something to do with the crew pushing the boat out onto the ocean, releasing it from its prison in the sand.

Dejun sends him a smile – not a smirk – but a smile, as he beckons Kunhang toward the front of the boat. On slightly unsteady legs, Kunhang moves toward him, laughing the entire way because the deck beneath his feet seems to sway.

Dejun never stops smiling as he offers Kunhang another hand, helping him up onto the forecastle which points out at the horizon. Their hands stay interlaced as they stand side by side, so close that their hip bones brush against each other, and it reminds Kunhang of last night, when they had stared out at the sea together from the castle.

Dejun gestures toward the ship’s wheel with his free hand, and when Kunhang looks, he’s amazed.

The circular wooden contraption is engraved with stars, clusters of constellations and a compass with the bearings of the land. It points forward, toward the horizon, as if ready to guide them anywhere their hearts wish to go.

Then Dejun does something that surprises him. He leans down toward the centre of the wheel, the circle at the middle where a Delphinus constellation is engraved, and presses a kiss to its wooden surface. His lips move against it, whispering words Kunhang can’t make out over the wind.

Then the steering wheel comes to life, the engraved constellations and compass lighting up and shining silver like starlight. Dejun stands upright once more to look at Kunhang.

Before he can say anything, though, the ship starts to move. As if compelled by magic, it pushes away from where it had been embedded in the sandy shores of the kingdom, pushing forward onto open water. Dejun still watches Kunhang, and he can tell that his own mouth is open and his eyes are wide as he turns to meet Dejun’s fond gaze.

“Do you still want to know if merpeople are real?” he asks, and Kunhang doesn’t know if he wants to push him off the boat or kiss him silly. 

Kunhang opts for the latter, closing the small space between them in one confident stride, capturing Dejun’s lips without warning. A small gasp escapes Dejun’s lips but soon he’s sighing into the kiss and threading his hands in Kunhang’s hair.

They don’t get to kiss for long because the ship picks up its own pace, accelerating further from the shore as if sensing on its own that it has passed through the bay and reached the darker depths of the open sea.

Kunhang sighs in wonder as he turns, still in Dejun’s arms, to watch the castle recede into the distance. It looks tall, he thinks, but he’s never seen it from so far away before. Its stone towers and wings stretch high into the sky, competing with the mountains behind.

It looks beautiful, he thinks. A painting of the sea and the woods, of flowers and an ancient kingdom nestled amongst the mountainside. And his home, too.

Dejun places the ghost of a kiss against the curve of Kunhang’s ear, and then the spot on his neck below it. He turns to face the other boy, watching the way his hair blows in the wind and his eyes have almost turned blue as they reflect the colours of the sea. 

The steering wheel beneath his fingertips is still lit up in silver.

“There’s so much of the world I haven’t seen,” Kunhang admits aloud, watching a sympathetic look bloom on Dejun’s pretty face. “Thank you for showing me a piece of it.”

“It’s my pleasure, Kunhang,” Dejun reminds him, hands running gentle along Kunhang’s arms. “Although, there’s still one more thing I want to show you.”

Kunhang is surprised to hear that, because at this point he’s struggling to imagine what else Dejun could show him, what else there may be. But he still follows Dejun who moves past the steering wheel until his ribs are pressed against the front most part of the ship, just before the merman figurehead.

Kunhang joins him, slipping in front of Dejun under the guidance of his hands. Dejun wraps them around his wrists, and then slowly, surely, opens them, until his arms are outspread like the wings of a bird.

In his chest Kunhang’s heart soars, no longer fluttering or blooming but _soaring_ , like the hummingbirds he’s spent years watching take flight, riding the currents of the wind in a constant dance with the waves of the sea. 

In that moment, with Dejun behind him, laughing in his ear, Kunhang does nothing to hide the ridiculous smile breaking out on his face, nor the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. The boy behind him moves his hands from his wrists to his waist, but Kunhang never drops his arms.

Nor does he do anything to keep the bird that is his heart in its cage. Instead, he sets it free and watches it fly.

───── ⋆⋅♔⋅⋆ ─────

The sun has reached its highest point in the sky and sailed beyond that by the time they stop sailing, anchoring off the coast of a small island no bigger than the castle itself. Dejun tells him that it’s uninhabited, a small little spot of land only used for rest stops, and that’s exactly what they use it for now.

Kunhang is breathless and his voice is beginning to hurt from screaming and laughing over the roaring wind. It amazes him how quickly that can change, how quickly the sea can go from vivacious and alive to tranquil and still as soon as they stop moving and simply sit.

He and Dejun have climbed the mainmast and reached the crow’s nest, Kunhang holding onto the mast for dear life as the ship sways to and fro and Dejun laughing at him from his position not too far away.

The view from up there is worth it. 

Aside from the small green island to the north, all Kunhang can see in every direction is blue. Nothing but the open ocean, uninterrupted by anything or anyone.

“I understand why your people base their way of life around the ocean,” Kunhang says when the swaying stops and he grows accustomed to the height. “It’s so beautiful out here.”

“Isn’t it?” Dejun responds, but his eyes never leave Kunhang.

Another thing that Kunhang learns that day is that Dejun loves to swim. It shouldn’t surprise him, really, all things considered. He’s a child of the sea and the stars through and through.

And yet when Dejun pulls the linen shirt over his head and dives off the deck into shimmering water without warning, Kunhang stands there with an open mouth. It passes quickly because Dejun resurfaces from the depths with a bright smile and a carefree laugh escapes his lips. His hair is wet and falling this way and that over his head, such a casual sight it makes Kunhang smile.

“Come, join me my prince,” Dejun invites, swimming toward the ship and crossing his arms over the deck. Kunhang wants to, more than anything. To feel the seawater on his skin, to taste the salt, and most of all, to float as if he were weightless on its surface.

“Dejun, I can’t swim,” Kunhang says instead, but the smile on the other boy’s face never dims.

“You never learnt?” Dejun asks, to which Kunhang shakes his head. “I thought as much. Come, why don’t I show you?”

Kunhang hesitates for a moment, not really sure what he’s still weighing up. He trusts Dejun completely, and has never wanted to do something more in his life. So he exhales, letting go of any tension and steps toward the edge of the boat.

“Jump in, I’ll catch you,” Dejun reassures. He nods and pulls the shirt over his own head, not missing the way Dejun’s eyes trail over his chest, where he knows small bruises in the shape of the other boy’s lips still dance on his skin. Kunhang blushes at that but doesn’t mind, walking toward the edge and allowing his toes to curl around the edge of the boat.

“Ready?” Dejun asks, reassuring, and Kunhang nods firmly.

“Ready,” he confirms, before diving off the edge.

 _Cold_ is the first thing Kunhang thinks, and next is _silent_. Beneath the water it’s so still, so quiet and peaceful, and so unlike the chaotic chopping surface of the ocean. He kicks upward with surprising ease until his head is above the water and he can breathe again.

Hands instantly wrap around his waist, pulling him close until he’s flush against Dejun’s chest, warm in contrast to the cold ocean water.

“Are you sure you never learnt to swim?” Dejun asks, holding Kunhang close but just far enough that they can still see each other. “That was a near perfect dive.”

“You’re just flattering me,” Kunhang scoffs, trying to push away from Dejun who doesn’t let him go (arguably for good reason). Dejun smiles but Kunhang can see the honesty in his eyes and knows that it’s genuine. “Thank you,” he says in a smaller voice.

Kunhang isn’t sure how long they spend in the water then, swimming together and splashing each other, Kunhang watching in awe and Dejun smiling at him as a school of rainbow fish swims past. 

It’s not until they’re lying on their backs on the front of the boat later that afternoon, drying out under the sun, that Kunhang realises he hasn’t once thought of home. For the first time in a while he doesn’t feel the weight of his crown or the burden of his duties. He has forgotten; a task that he thought impossible.

And yet, with Dejun, anything seems to be possible. 

Kunhang rolls on his side then, propping his weight up on his elbow so he leans over Dejun beneath him.

“What are you thinking?” Dejun asks, his eyes searching Kunhang’s. The latter boy smiles.

“For once, nothing,” he admits after a moment, watching the sunlight shimmer in Dejun’s starry eyes. “I feel so at peace here.”

Almost breathless, Dejun replies: “Me too.”

They stare at each other for a while, both swaying gently as the ship rides the waves, completely uninterrupted save for the beating of Kunhang’s heart in his chest. There are words lingering in his mind, dancing behind his tongue and they haven’t taken form until they’re leaving his mouth a moment later. 

“It’s because I’m here with you, Dejun.”

“I know,” comes the soft reply, Dejun reaching a hang up to brush strands of Kunhang’s hair out of his eyes. “It’s the same for me, Kunhang.”

And perhaps it’s the use of his real name, or just the warm feeling blooming in his heart like a flower, but Kunhang finds himself closing the distance between them once more, capturing Dejun’s lips in a kiss that leaves them both gasping for air.

(Kunhang discovers in that moment that when it comes to Dejun, he doesn’t need air. He’s willing to hold his breath, to swim underwater, as long as he can be with the other boy for as long as time will allow.)

For a moment, the image of a possible future comes to mind, of two boys, one with dark hair and one the shade of the moon, standing side by side, a southern kingdom and its captain, united by chance but connected forever. 

───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────

**Author's Note:**

> hello !! what did you think? please leave a kudos or let me know in the comments if you liked it 💗
> 
> for the scene on the ocean – from the boat to setting sail to swimming together – i imagine it to go with jonsi's _go do_. it's the song i would choose were this a scene in a movie! you can find it on [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqwZ6GOZeYU) or [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/5AKrjpXImeI4SUzzBj33q0?si=lE3PZtd-S_-BY-FPm_1gBA) if you're interested ! 
> 
> i love kunhang and dejun with my whole being, so this was a delight to write ! i also miss summertime and the beach dearly, if you can't tell. i love you all and thank you so much for reading !! i hope you are all doing well and have a wonderful day 🦋
> 
> thank you to the loveliest [macka](https://twitter.com/fiddlestyyx) for beta-ing this story! ti amo tanto da morire, cara.
> 
> find and talk to me if you like ! ♡ [twitter](https://twitter.com/ophelialilies) and [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ophelialilies)


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